


The Way You Move Me

by keilotus (lotusk)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past bokuroo, Pining, Roommates, Secret Crush, Tsukki has an unhealthy obsession with strawberry shortcake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/pseuds/keilotus
Summary: Fake dating!AU. Kuroo's ex wants to crash at his apartment for a week, which is okay with him. Kuroo's ex also wants to hook up again, which is not so okay with him. No matter how Kuroo looks at it, his roommate is the answer to all his problems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I wrote this college au for [laneboyheathens](http://laneboyheathens.tumblr.com/)! Life has been super hectic so I'm really sorry I only have chapter one ready for posting. I'll try to finish the remaining chapter(s?) real soon! Thanks to John Mayer's _Back To You_ for the ficspiration, as well as the title ^^.

Kuroo stares at his screen in horror.

He must have read the message wrong because this can’t actually be happening. It fucking _can’t_.

 

                         **Bokuto Koutarou**  
                         _Hey Tetsu! Gonna be in Tokyo for a week. Robotics seminar at your uni - 20-25 nov. Can I crash at your place?  
                        Nowhere else to go man._

 

He wants to yell HELL NO in allcaps, he really wants to. But Kuroo knows accommodation in Tokyo is insanely expensive. The apartment he shares with his roommate is tiny but there’s definitely just enough space on his bedroom floor for a sleeping bag. How can he say no to Bokuto? But. It’s. Bokuto. Tetsurou groans and starts typing.

 

                        Ok you can stay here.

                         **Bokuto Koutarou**  
                         _I get in on the 20th and leave on the 26th. Dude, thanks! I knew I could count on you ^.^_

                        idk abt that but sure

                         **Bokuto Koutarou**  
                         _It’s gonna be great! We can hang out, talk abt old times and maybe even yk, hook up._

 

Why is he such a wuss? Why hadn’t he just told Bokuto he couldn’t crash at his place? And hold up? Did Bokuto say hook up? Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh hell no. He’s so screwed.

 

 

 

 

There’s a panicky kind of banging on Kei’s bedroom door. His thoughts scatter and his palm slaps the cover of his Fluid Mechanics textbook in irritation. 

“What?” Kei barks. 

The shōji slides open and his roommate strides in. His movements are sharp and agitated and very unlike chill, casual Kuroo Tetsurou. He walks over to Kei’s desk and plants his ass on the edge of his study table. Kei gives him a get-your-ass-off-my-desk-or-die glare which Kuroo completely ignores. 

“Tsukki, you gotta help me.”

“Look, I’ve got papers to write and exams to study for. I can’t even help myself.”

“Tsukki, you have to help me. My ex wants to stay here for a week and I told him he could but that was before I knew he wants us to hook up again?” Kuroo explains in a voice that is bordering on mild hysteria. 

“Dude, I can’t help you with that.” Kei holds his hands up in what he hopes is a very clear and unmistakable expression of NO FUCKING WAY.

“I thought he was just gonna crash here and sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag. I was not expecting him to want to share my futon. God fucking damnit I can’t do this without your help. YOU GOTTA HELP ME, TSUKKI. PLEASE.”

“Paper. To. Write.” Kei waves him off dismissively.

“Look, you don’t understand! Bokuto is like a human cannonball that flattens everything in his path. I’ll be like ‘the past has to stay in the past and we’re just bros now’ and he’ll be like ‘but we were so good together and we could be again’ before I’ve even finished my sentence. Like not in an obnoxious way because Bokuto is a really nice guy. He’s just…very persuasive, okay? Very, very persuasive. There is no obstacle Bokuto Koutarou can’t overcome and he’ll have me convinced that I want to date him before I even know what’s hit me. Trust me, I need to have a more convincing case than let’s not date because we’re completely wrong for each other.” Kuroo looks like he’s about to tear his hair out. Cool, snarky, unflappable Kuroo. Kei has never seen him in such a state. It’s fascinating. Deeply so.

“That’s all very touching but I still have a paper to write and I still don’t get how I’m supposed to help you stop your ex from jumping your bones.”

Kuroo places his hands on Kei’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. “The only way he’s not going to try anything is if he thinks I’m already jumping someone else’s bones.”

“What?” Kei sits bolt upright in his chair as the meaning behind Kuroo’s words finally begins to sink in. 

“So, I kind of told him that I was dating my roommate and that’s why us getting together again was completely out of the question. I’m sorry I did that without getting your okay first,” Kuroo explains, looking more than a little sheepish. 

“That was a total dick move, Kuroo,” Kei pronounces in menacing tones. 

“I know, I know. But he had me cornered. I was _desperate_. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” Kuroo has his hands clasped in mock prayer and he’s wearing the most persuasive smile on his face. It’s a good thing Kei is immune to his charms. Well…mostly immune, anyway. 

Kei crosses his arms. “I’m not helping you.”

“Come on Tsukki,” Kuroo begs, “You can use my library loan allocation to take out more books for your damn assignments.”

“Tempting…but no. I’ve already got all the materials I need.”

“Come on, Tsukki! You gotta help me. Wait! How about I do all the chores for a week? That would save you hours of productive paper writing time.”

“Not interested.” 

“What if I bake you some of my Super Special Strawberry Shortcake?”

Goddamnit. Kuroo did not just use emotional blackmail on him. How dare he dangle his favorite dessert in the whole wide world in front of him? Kei can feel his resolve crumbling at the speed of light. Kuroo’s strawberry shortcake is divine; it’s the ultimate bribe but Kei will not succumb. He’s stronger than that. Totally.

“You give me your entire library loan allocation, I don’t have to do chores for two weeks _and_ you bake me two strawberry shortcakes. You meet all those terms and I’ll be the best fucking fake boyfriend the world has ever known.” 

Nooooo, he’s stronger than this! What is he doing? Agreeing to be Kuroo’s fake boyfriend is the worst idea he’s ever heard of. Not to mention stupid and dangerous. Kuroo and him pretending to be boyfriends and possibly hugging and holding hands. He can feel the blood drain from his body. But in that very same moment of dread, he can also feel Kuroo’s fluffy strawberry shortcake dissolving on his tongue and flooding it with that soft, tangy sweetness and oh God, he’s doomed. 

“Dude, this sounds like such a ripoff?” Kuroo gives him a look that’s a mixture of outrage and relief. “You’re asking for too much.”

“Well, good luck with Bokudaru or whatever the hell his name is then. I’ve got a paper to write, so if you’ll get your ass off my desk,” Kei says frostily as he starts shoving Kuroo off his desk. 

Kuroo catches his hands in a playful manner. “You’re such a hardass, Tsukki, but fine. I’ll accept your terms. You’d better be super convincing, Mr. Best Fake Boyfriend The World Has Ever Known.” Kuroo gives his hands a quick squeeze before letting them go and Kei tells himself the gesture hadn’t given him a special kind of buzz. 

“He’ll never suspect a thing. Now get your ass off my desk for real. I’ve got a paper to finish. As for you? You might wanna make a trip to the supermarket to get strawberries for that cake you’re going to bake me.” 

“Harsh.” Kuroo raises a sardonic eyebrow. 

“Whatever. I’ll take delivery of the second shortcake _after_ Bokuto leaves because I’m not sharing any of my payment with Human Cannonball. Also, you need to rename your cake. Calling it Super Special is so lame.”

“You think of a name then, Mr. Best Fake Boyfriend the World Has Ever Known,” Kuroo smirks.

“Maybe. Now get out. Go. Paper. To. Write.”

It’s only after Kuroo shuts the door behind him that Kei slumps onto his desk. What has he done? This is going to be nothing short of catastrophic. Kei has never set eyes on Bokuto Koutarou and he already knows the guy is going to bring all manner of chaos and emotional upheaval to their quiet lives.

He just wants to get this assignment fucking done. Damnit.

 

 

 

 

Kei is lying on his tummy, lost in Hiroshi Yamamoto’s _Stories of Ibis_ when he hears four muffled raps on his door. What does his roommate want now, he groans inwardly. He’s sure he left the door open. Why is he even knocking? 

Without even looking up from his book, Kei asks in his default bored voice, “What do you want?” 

“So, I thought I’d move my stuff in before Bokuto gets here,” Kuroo announces casually and Kei looks up in surprise. _Move his stuff in? What the fuck?_

Kei blurts out, “Why is your futon in my doorway and what do you mean move your stuff in?” 

“It’s November? I don’t plan on sleeping on a tatami mat when I can sleep on my perfectly good futon. Unless you want us to share your futon. It might be a bit of a squeeze seeing as we’re both over six feet two, but I guess we can just manage it. Like, if we cuddle and shit.” Kuroo has an almost-smirk on his face and Kei wants to punch it right off.

“Yeah, that’s the part that isn’t making any sense. The part where you’re sleeping in my room? You never said anything about invading my space.” Kei’s sitting up now, his body taut as a bowstring.

“It’s just for seven nights?” Kuroo holds up seven fingers, a hopeful smile plastered on his annoyingly handsome face.

“SEVEN NIGHTS? That’s a whole week, Kuroo. You fucker. Don’t make it sound like it’s only two minutes or something.”

“I won’t get in your way. I promise! You can write as many papers as you want and stay in your usual bubble with your books and your music. You won’t even know I’m here. I’ll be outside your room or taking Bokuto around Tokyo. I’ll only be in here to sleep. Promise!”

“You have your own damn room. Sleep in it.” Kei doesn’t add that there’s no way he’s going to get any decent sleep when Kuroo is lying down next to him. In the same room. Breathing the same air. Damnit. He doesn’t even want to think about Kuroo’s soft sleeping sounds. 

They’ve shared this cramped apartment for two years and they’ve fallen asleep in front of the TV countless times. Of course, they have. Kei hates that Kuroo’s gentle snores make his heart feel funny. And he hates the way Kuroo’s spiky black hair seems to relax in sleep, falling across his forehead in soft strands. Kei sighs. He just really hates Kuroo Tetsurou. 

He also knows with unfailing certainty that falling asleep in the living room and heading to their own rooms when they wake up is nowhere near as challenging as what Kuroo is proposing. Falling asleep in a room they have to stay in together for the rest of the night? For seven nights? He won’t survive the experience. He’ll never get any sleep if Kuroo moves in. He needs to convince him this is a terrible idea. Right now. 

“Listen, Tsukki. I can’t sleep in my own room. Bokuto will want to share my futon and that has Very Bad Idea written all over it. We made a deal! You agreed to help me out of this mess and the best way to do that is to let me hide out in here where it’s safe. My room is not safe until Bokuto gets on a train bound out of Tokyo.” 

“You’re being overdramatic,” Kei grumbles. What about him? What about the fact that his room is not going to be safe for as long as Kuroo takes up residence there. Why did he ever agree to this insane arrangement. “And the answer is no. You can’t move in. I never agreed to any room invasion.”

Kuroo gives an exaggerated sigh. “I guess you won’t want any of that strawberry shortcake I just baked then.” 

“Wait. What?”

“The one that’s sitting in the kitchen. I was going to cut you some but if the deal is off…I guess you won’t want any now. Oh well. What to do? I guess it can be Bokuto’s Welcome To Tokyo cake,” Kuroo says with mock regret and the most insincere innocent expression Kei’s ever seen in his life. 

“You’ll give that cake to him over my dead body!” Kei bites out. How had Kuroo even managed to bake and construct the thing without him realizing it? Just how lost had he been in his book? 

“So I’ll just leave this here then?” Kuroo lets his futon slip out of his arms and onto the floor, before sliding it next to Kei’s own neatly made one. 

“I hate you,” Kei growls as he lands a hard punch on Kuroo’s arm. 

“Careful! That’s my cake baking arm,” he laughs as he grabs Kei’s fist playfully. “Let me get you a slice of cake. I have to be at the train station in three hours so you’ve still got lots of time to devour the entire thing or hide the uneaten bits away from our houseguest.”

“I think we need to renegotiate the terms. Three strawberry shortcakes instead of the original two. You’ll need to cough up at least one extra cake to compensate for the added trauma of having to listen to you snore like a freight train.”

“I do not snore like a freight train and you’re being unnecessarily picky. The terms of our agreement are fine as they are.” 

“Have fun snuggling up to Bokudaru, then. Book. To. Read.”

“Wow, I hate you too.” Kuroo was trying his best to glare but his eyes glowed with mischief. “But fine, you’ve made your point. I will concede a third cake. For now, I’ll go cut you a slice of the one I just made.”

“Ugh,” Kei grumbles as he watches Kuroo head for the sliding door. Just as Kuroo is about to leave the room, he turns around. 

“Hey, Tsukki?” Kuroo has a look on his face—one Kei can’t decipher.

“What?” he asks, sounding waspish.

“Thanks, man. Thanks for doing this.” And Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling with an open kind of happiness that sneaks stubbornly through cracks in the wall Kei has built around his heart. 

Kei shrugs. “Yeah. Whatever.” 

“I’ll be back,” Kuroo promises as he heads in the direction of the kitchen. 

Groaning wordlessly, Kei flops back onto his futon, his book all but forgotten. He turns to stare at the unfamiliar futon beside his own and wonders if the sheets smell of Kuroo’s woodsy masculine scent, and he wonders if Kuroo’s pillowcase smells of the apple and berry shampoo he uses. He groans again. Then he’s pulling his covers over his face in a futile attempt to hide from the world (and more specifically, to hide from his roommate).

_Best fucking fake boyfriend the world has ever known, my ass. More like I’m going to be the worst basket case the world has ever known._


	2. Chapter 2

Kuroo glances at his watch for what feels like the bajillionth time. Bokuto’s train was due to arrive five minutes ago so he should be walking through a ticket gate any minute now, shouldn’t he? Kuroo is both excited and apprehensive about seeing his longtime friend, slash, ex-boyfriend. He’s missed Bokuto’s energy and sense of fun more than he’d realized. Hell, he’s even missed Bokuto’s mood swings. After two years of living with cool, remote Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo isn’t even sure he’s equipped to deal with Bokuto Koutarou’s larger-than-life personality. 

In many ways, Bokuto is the polar opposite of Kei. Trust him to somehow fall for two guys on such extreme ends of the personality scale? It would have been so much easier for Kuroo, though, if he were hung up on his ex. Crushing on his emotionally unavailable roommate has proven to be one of the worst decisions of his life (if not the worst). He might have panicked when Bokuto first texted him about staying at his place, but now he’s just grateful to the guy. After all, it’s Bokuto who’s created the opportunity for Kuroo to strawberry-shortcake-bribe Kei into the whole fake dating thing in the first place. 

_Kei_. 

He’s never tried calling him that. Yamaguchi had introduced his childhood bestie as Tsukki the first time they’d met two years and three months ago. Two weeks later, Yamaguchi had moved out to start a new job in a new city, and Kei had moved in to take his place. He’s always called him Tsukki, but in Kuroo’s head, his tall, enigmatic roommate has always been Kei. Firefly…it really is the perfect name. He hasn’t seen fireflies in years but those hovering, tiny balls of light have always filled him with wonder and fascination. Wonder and fascination just happen to be the very same emotions Kei makes him feel. Emotions that Kuroo works very hard to conceal. For two whole years, they've been bumping elbows in the confined space of their apartment. Two whole years of seeing each other almost on a daily basis. Despite all the proximity, Kuroo knows he’s only seen glimpses of the real Kei—only what Kei’s allowed him to see. But Kuroo wants to see all of Kei. He really wants to. So much. 

“Kuroo Tetsurou!” A booming voice shatters his reverie. “Dude, I’ve been standing here for eight whole seconds. What’s got you so distracted you didn’t even notice my striking good looks and my magnetic presence?” Bokuto is standing in front of him, hands on hips and feet splayed. And his arresting, golden eyes are wide with mock outrage. Bokuto still has the the same dramatic hairstyle he’s had for years—black, silver-streaked hair that’s been gelled into gravity-defying spikes. In other words, Bokuto's hair is just as flamboyant as the man himself.

“You always were too full of yourself, Bokuto Koutarou,” Kuroo says, shaking his head.

“Made you fall for me anyway,” Bokuto’s confident smirk makes Kuroo laugh helplessly. 

“Like I said, too damned full of yourself. How’ve you been, dumbass?” 

“Not so bad, you know? What about you, asshole? You good?” Bokuto asks just before he grabs Kuroo in a quick hug. It’s only slightly awkward, Kuroo thinks as they draw apart. 

He shrugs. “Busy with college and…you know, stuff.” 

“So what’s his name? This boy who managed to talk you into giving this relationship thing another shot?” Bokuto’s words are light but there’s genuine curiosity in his expression, and maybe even concern.

“Tsukishima Kei,” Kuroo says at last, lifting his hand to cup the back of his neck.

“That’s it? That’s all you have?” Bokuto looks at him incredulously.

“You asked for his _name_ , airhead! I answered your damn question. Anyway, let’s start moving,” Kuroo says as he grabs the handle of Bokuto’s bright orange trolley bag. Only Bokuto would pay good yen for such hideously loud luggage. Kuroo isn’t even surprised. 

“So what’s he like, this firefly of yours?”

“Yeahhh…don’t call him that unless you want to lose a limb.”

“Savage!”

Kuroo chuckles. “He can be. Like if you’re reckless enough to ask him stupid questions or call him Firefly. But then again, you’ve always liked living dangerously, so it’s entirely possible you’ll leave Tokyo with a limb or two missing.” 

“Damn. I like him already!” Bokuto gives one of his loud belly laughs and it’s such a familiar sound that Kuroo’s heart can’t help feeling just a little lighter. Bokuto is here. His friend is here and Kuroo is glad.

“I’m not sure he’ll return your affections, though,” Kuroo chuckles. The irony doesn’t escape him that he’s not sure if Kei is fond of him either, despite two years of living together. “C’mon, let’s go home. Then we can go grab something to eat. Any suggest—”

“YAKINIKU FOR THE WIN!” Bokuto yells, pumping his fist enthusiastically. 

Kuroo laughs. “I see some things never change.”

 

 

 

 

“No thanks. I’m not good with strangers,” Kei says, shaking his head for emphasis.

“Bokuto doesn’t know how to be a stranger, trust me. It’ll be fun and we’re doing yakiniku. You need to eat anyway—might as well make it yummy grilled meat.”

“I’ll just be super awkward and end up killing all your positive reunion vibes. You don’t want me there, dude. You and Bokudaru have a good time. Catch up. Get shitfaced or whatever it is people do when they haven’t seen each other in forever.”

“Getting shitfaced with Bokuto when it’s just the two of us? That would be a disaster of monumental proportions. We have zero self control when we start drinking together. You might have to come pick us up at ass o’clock because I can’t remember my own name let alone our home address. And that’s assuming I don’t lose my phone before I can even call you.” 

“Now I know you’re making shit up,” Kei snorts. 

“I WISH I WERE! This is Bokuto Koutarou we’re talking about. You need to come with us so we don’t end up sleeping on some sidewalk.”

“If you’re dumb enough to drink that much?” Kei shrugs. Then, he reaches for his ball pen like the conversation is over.

Kei has clearly got zero sympathy for his plight and Kuroo can feel the potential fake date slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He needs to up the ante, and fast.

“We have an agreement. You’ve eaten most of today’s cake and you haven’t done a single boyfriend thing for me yet. I mean, I might have to sue for breach of contract. Guess I won’t have to buy any strawberries for a while.” 

“That’s emotional blackmail.” Kei’s expression gives nothing away but Kuroo swears he can smell the anxiety and indecision in the air. He should have known better than to underestimate the depths of Tsukishima Kei’s strawberry shortcake obsession. 

“Come on, Tsukki, have dinner with us. I’ll pay,” Kuroo begs. 

“You’ll pay?” Kei gives him a suspicious look. Kuroo groans inside. How does Kei manage to look so hot when he’s irked? He’s not even trying to look hot and he’s got Kuroo all bothered. Imagine if he were actually trying. Kuroo doesn’t even want to think about the possibility. He’s dead sure he will not survive the experience.

He places his hand over his chest theatrically. “I promise.”

“Fine,” Kei says with a disgruntled sigh. “I guess I need to eat…eventually.”

Kuroo smiles in relief. “Cool. There’s just one more thing.” 

“Do I even want to know?” Kei’s eyes him warily for the fourth time in as many minutes.

“We can’t call each other Tsukki and Kuroo. It would be…weird. I mean seeing as we’re boyfriends and all. So I was thinking I could call you Kei and you could, y’know, call me Tetsu or something.” Kuroo braces himself for a storm of protest but Kei is surprisingly calm.

“Makes sense. Okay, Tetsu it is.”

“And I can call you Kei?” Kuroo asks with a tentative smile. His roommate grimaces before nodding. Very reluctantly. “Right. Time to introduce you to Bokuto. You ready?”

“No, I’m fucking not, Kuroo. Of course, I’m fucking not.” Kei frowns at him like he’s just said the most asinine thing in the history of ever. Kuroo knows Kei’s words are meant to be insulting, but honest to God, the only thing going through his head right now is how goddamned sexy Kei looks when he’s annoyed about something.

“I think you mean no, I’m fucking not, _Tetsu_.” Kuroo’s grin reeks of smug satisfaction and Kei gives him an arctic look.

“Are you serious right now?”

“I’m always serious. Now let’s go, Kei,” Kuroo says in a silky voice, trying his best to sound like he’s all cool and together when his heart is, in fact, flapping around the room in circles because he’s finally calling his roommate by his given name. Completely oblivious to Kuroo’s emotional turmoil, Kei gives a long suffering sigh and allows himself to be herded out of the bedroom. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto waves a hand in greeting. Kei raises a wary eyebrow and watches Bokuto like he’s trying to figure out how to respond.

“Bokuto, this is Tsukishima Kei. Kei, this is Bokuto Koutarou.” Kuroo butts in quickly before things have a chance to get awkward. He offers up a silent prayer to the gods that Bokuto will have more sense than to bring up the whole firefly thing.

“So, firefly. That’s a cool name,” Bokuto grins as he offers his hand. Kei stiffens and Kuroo swears he’s going to choke Bokuto the first chance he gets. 

“No one calls me by my first name except family.” Kei’s expression is bland but Kuroo knows better. Bokuto’s limbs are in imminent danger. Oh God. 

“Your family and Tetsu, you mean?” Bokuto is still grinning and Kuroo is suddenly reminded of one of the main reasons he’d broken up with Bokuto three years ago. The guy has a heart of gold but sometimes he has the emotional sensitivity of a cinder block. 

“And Tetsu,” Kei agrees before telling Bokuto very firmly that he can call him Tsukishima. Kuroo decides it’s time to interrupt before the conversation goes any further south (if it’s even possible for the conversation to get any worse than it already has). Before Kuroo can open his mouth, Bokuto finally remembers that he wants to leave Tokyo with all his limbs intact and he starts thanking Kei for letting him crash here.

Stunned by the swift change in topic, Kei gives an awkward shrug. “Yeah, sure. It’s not a big deal.”

“No, no, you’re doing me a huge favor,” Bokuto insists.

“Right then, let’s get out of here before we get stuck in the dinner rush,” Kuroo says.

“But Tsukishima and I were just getting to know each other—”

Kuroo gives him a warning look and Bokuto shuts up at last. Thank fuck. “Let’s just grab our jackets and go then,” Kuroo says in as cheerful a voice as he can muster. Carefully avoiding Kei’s eyes, he prays that the evening ahead won’t be a complete train wreck.

Who is he kidding? It’s going to be a complete and utter catastrophe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this update out but real life has not been conducive to writing :( I want to thank all of you for reading this silly story and for liking it enough to leave kudos and such lovely comments. It means a lot to me <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Comments and kudos are very much loved and thanks so much for reading! Come talk to me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/kurokeiren) ^.^


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